Wander
by Maquerea
Summary: Dod usually spends his time lazing about the house, playing video games, or on the rare occasion, playing tennis. Then he gets kicked out of the house to make cash. It seems he's going to have to start a training profession, before he starts getting offers, and soon enough he finds himself running an delivery service for some of the most important people in Sinnoh with his brother.
1. Chapter 1: Breaded Eggs

**Disclaimer: It's a fan-fiction site, nobody owns the stuff they write about here...**

**Wander**

**Chapter 1**

"Get a job," ordered the man, taking the youth across the breakfast table by surprise, who required a moment to brace himself for the upcoming discussion and carefully compose his response.

"Nah," he said abruptly, the single syllable both disappointing its recipient and aggravating him with the tone it was spoken in.

"Why not, Dod?" the gruff giant responded curtly.

"But why?" this 'Dod' whined back, in the most irritating voice he could be bothered to muster at that time of day.

"You could use the experience, maybe actually do something worthwhile for a change, rather than laze about when you're not in school..."

"I'm only 15!" he yelled defensively, before adding, "And only by a day...this can't be a coincedence."

"So?" scoffed the tall, pushy individual whose head bore a striking resemblance to that of a goat, ignoring the latter statement entirely, "People these days allow their children to travel around alone through the wilderness at the age of ten. And even THEY manage to make some cash along the way, Dod."

"Then why the heck am I still here?" Dod retorted.

"Because," his guardian replied exasperatedly, "You always refused to leave home and you weren't bothered to carry out any tasks nearby!"

"But they're so taxing!" he complained.

"Nobody's gonna pay you to play video games or fluff pillows," the older man lectured, "Of course you're going to need to put EFFORT into your WORK."

The boy took another moment to try and think of a witty comment, but was soon unconcerned with his caretaker as breakfast was served, a nice, simple dish consisting of two heavenly slices of perfectly buttered toast and two steaming, irresistible poached eggs. He then complimented the chef responsible for this masterpiece, showering him with praise, which was unnecessary, as the chef happened to be a prideful, extremely talented psychic, well aware of his capabilities and taking every opportunity to make sure everyone else in the vicinity was aware. Had he been human, he probably would've raised a campaign to spread awareness of his brilliant, unique takes on common dishes.

In short, an arrogant show-off of an Alakazam, named Carrac, who wasn't afraid to flaunt his talents, be they culinary or otherwise.

Immediately after the plates had been cleared and faces wiped clean, the built, buff giant resumed the conversation, though only to veer it towards its end.

"Lately, your old man has been getting on my case about you more than ever..." he began quietly, softly at first, his voice steadily growing stronger as he spoke. "Now, finally, as your caretaker, I, Kurt Palin, am putting my foot down."

Dod suspected from the start that he'd be serious that day, and now that his full name was announced, it was a certainty.

"You have a week to find a job, or you'll be kicked out of the house to travel. Granted, we'll make sure you don't die in a ditch or starve to death, but you're out."

The silence that followed unsettled the boy, who felt a sudden urge to break it. "So would that really mean you're putting your foot down NOW, or AFTER the week's up?" he pondered aloud.

He then ducked out of the room and covered his ears to block out the frustrated howl that ensued.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**I guess I'll write some stuff at the bottom of each release since it seems customary for most writers on the site.**

**I swear by conversation number 3 I'm going to run out of synonyms for 'said'.**

**So this story is set in Sinnoh, since Diamond was the first version I actually owned myself and played to the end. No, they're not in Twinleaf Town. Or Sandgem. Like so many guides and writers have encouraged, I'll go out of my way to make this fic at least a bit different. Unique.**

***gives Dod a pikachu***

**This is my first story, and only the first little snippet of it, but don't worry, I have the basics more or less outlined, so I probably won't get stuck in a rut or anything. If I do, I'll just pull the FIRST TIMER card and hand-wave whatever gets in the way, so no worries. :p**

**For those curious, I've planned out some characters and teams already, though they're clearly subject to change since I actually haven't written about them at all yet. In fact, I have something cool in mind for the ending and epilogue stuff. I even wrote some random scene in advance!**

**Definitely not going in blind.**

**Please read and review...it'd be good to get rid of any pressing errors or horrific habits ahead of time (especially if it's spelling/grammar/etc.)**


	2. Chapter 2: Hello World

**Disclaimer: Why yes, this _will_ be a running gag! I'm not gonna be mean and copyright it, though.**

**Wander**

**Chapter 2: Hello World**

"Some people just can't take a joke..." Dod muttered to himself, as he grabbed his preprepared escape pack from its hiding place among the shelves in the corridors. Kurt was a professional, so Dod was fairly certain he wouldn't harm him, but he didn't exactly want to deal with a bitter, uptight caretaker anyway (or take his chances at all, really). For all he knew, he could be forced to do chores or even have his time limit shortened out of spite. Either result would be quite unfavourable.

Anyway, Dod, mocking as he may be, wanted as much time as possible to do whatever he could to get both his caretaker and father off his back, and as soon as possible, since the struggled silence at mealtimes whenever things like this happened were just torturous, tension at an all-time high. That being said, his ideal plan this time was to secure a job offer, laze around until he just about reached the time limit, and then calmly reveal that he'd already sorted out his employment. Of course that might have meant lunch and dinner could be just as awkward, but Dod would just find it amusing to aggravate the only other diner, so the boy left his home responsibly with the intent to find something bearable to do for work nearby. It also helped that he had nothing better to do that morning.

It was only as he reached for his jacket that the boy realised he'd probably need the newspaper if he actually wanted any immediate progress. Since he wasn't exactly inclined to making any requests to Kurt, who'd undoubtedly be reading it after he was over his fit, he decided to try his luck in the local area instead.

The teen waltzed about the street, looking for opportunities and inspiration, appraising his surroundings with a keen eye. He hoped to at least gain an idea of what he could do as he scoured shop windows, signs and noticeboards within a sizeable radius around his home. Following the retrieval of some materials, including a pencil and a map of the city, from his handy backpack, he used paper clips to fasten tracing paper onto the map so that when he marked off the general areas that he'd covered the map would remain pristine. After all, finding clean replacement maps of similar quality was a bother, and Dod enjoyed the luxury of being crazy prepared with minimal effort spent on restocking.

During his expedition he met up with a few of his friends, one of whom suggested that Dod join him for his own gig at a restaurant that focused primarily on meat. It was that very dreadful focus which forced the boy to decline, as he had some sort of complex regarding the consumption of pokémon, who were so close to humans. The occasional burger he could stomach, because- as much as it saddened him- who can argue with such results? Even those were only taken when he was at a barbeque or something and he had little choice in the matter. On the other hand, the thought of working with meat or a butcher so often made him feel particularly uncomfortable.

For Arceus' sake, he had an Alakazam cooking his meals.

On that sombre note, he trudged back towards his house, discouraged by the lack of opportunities and blaming the recession that he knew nothing about.

Suddenly a poster dramatically flew in from the direction of the wind to slap him in the face and then miraculously lodged itself in-between his cap and his head, earning the teen curious glances and giggles from passers-by. Slightly disturbed by this turn of events, but thanking the universe profusely in advance for probably making his life a lot easier, he raised his hand to the piece of paper in order to retrieve it from its current location. He'd always been a believer of signs, so he shrugged and, grinning, studied the surface of the object that was now in his hands, expecting an offer, hopefully for something easy to do, like fluffing pillows, since he'd already been humiliated in public by being smacked around by litter in the air.

The redundant lack of opportunity certainly _felt_ like another slap to him. It turned out to be a poster for Rad Rickshaw's Bike Shop advertising the new cycle models, which featured two basic, convenient, default gear settings and a much looser gear changing option (still on the same bike) for everything beyond and between them. _"Does this mean I have to buy a bike?"_ Dod speculated, _"Or should I try being a mechanic or delivery guy after all? Maybe is this some roundabout method of hinting that leaving home? I guess I could check out the store in question, unless that last one was true."_

In the end it turned out the store had already closed by then, so he begrudgingly returned to his address, borrowing some guides, novels, clips and games based on training from the local library on the way.

* * *

_"Okay,"_ Dod reasoned somewhere in the back of his mind, _"Perhaps bringing the games was a bad idea."_

The foolish child had stayed up late playing video games like so many other teens left to their own devices, the literal device in this case still lying on his bed temptingly, daring him to grab a hold of it once again. Thankfully, the infernal racket produced by Dod's annoyingly efficient alarm feature on his Pokétch cleared him of such impurities, replacing them with the urge to smack it with his own tennis racket.

Barely resisting his newfound temptations, he calmly pressed the appropriate button, before realising that he was actually supposed to enter a password on the touch screen of the device.

It got louder.

Still struggling to maintain his composure, he punched in the godforsaken code and the noise _finally_ died down abruptly.

Amazingly, the feature worked well, as he could not in good conscience return to his slumber (though he fell back on his bed for a few moments) and his attention had been fully torn away from the handheld game console resting on the bedside table.

Because Dod still felt a little bitter though, he decided to set a tennis racket by the front door so that he could hit something later.

Thankfully, breakfast was relatively uneventful, allowing for a peaceful departure compared to yesterday's dashing escape. After lounging around for an impressive period of time and putting it off until later, he decided to see if the folks at the bike shop needed any extra hands around.

As it turned out, they didn't.

Before the poor boy could open his mouth, the store owner, Rad Rickshaw, cut him off.

"No. Look, sorry, but...I've got more than enough help over here, maybe too _much_. In fact, I was thinking about..._downsizing_..."

Perhaps it was just his imagination adding its own twist due to tension from the refusal, but the teen could've sworn he heard a sinister chuckle, and shivered.

"Alright, now unless you're looking at merchandise..." It looked like he wasn't done, until he finished his statement, "beat it."

Well, now he was.

"Oh, come on!" Dod pleaded, "If I don't land a job soon, I'm gonna have to leave the house with some pokémon, and I'd rather do _some_ kind of work than travel across Sinnoh being a trainer at the ever-present risk of losing half of my hard-earned-"

"Say, how about doing both?" By this point, Rad had perked up, and seemed eager to just spit out his new idea before the boy rambled on. Upon catching sight of Dod's incredulous look, he held his hands up in front of him in a calming gesture. "Just hear me out."

Either clearing his throat or coughing for effect, he began proposing his plan, "I actually need someone to get a package to Sandgem Town, and I'm hoping you could do it for me. From there, you can start your own journey towards wherever you want to go. This should work well for you because the pokemon there tend to be very weak compared to other places and that's where Professor Rowan's lab is. In fact, he's the one who needs the package!"

"I see where you're going with this," Dod interjected. "So I get myself over there somehow, deliver a parcel to the professor in town, and he could give me the starting pack for my real journey, at which point I'll make my way over to you for my real payment for the delivery."

"Drat, I was hoping you'd forget about that!" the shop owner joked, "But yeah, that's about it. Give it some thought. You said you had a week?" He paused as Dod nodded. "The cargo should be here by then."

"Understood," said the boy. "What's in the package, anyway?"

Rad shrugged, "I don't know. Doesn't matter unless it's illegal. It could be pokémon, pokéballs, pokémon _in_ pokéballs, research papers or machine parts...all you need to know is that it needs to be taken to Professor Rowan, who should be in Sandgem Town. Now you move while I look for a feasible excuse to fire someone."

After leaving the store, the teen wasted the remainder of the day attempting to find a better offer. His search, of course, was in vain, leading him to prepare for the journey that many young children embarked on, the voyages that often excited little kids early in their lives, only a portion of which would survive the hardships that the first quarter of the gym circuit wrought. The wave of trainers making their way towards each gym would decrease along the way until only the most qualified remained, but every traveller would have tales to tell, and at the very least bragging rights. For the more successful and tenacious ones, new friends, funds, and fame awaited.

Maybe training wouldn't be so bad after all if he just kept thinking about it that way.

Until the time came though, he was perfectly content smacking tennis balls around with his friends on the courts while he had the chance, so he challenged as many players as he reasonably could using what little time was left that evening. Sadly, he only got to three opponents in total, and, disappointed, made a note to squeeze in as many sessions as he could before he eventually left, as he doubted he'd find another appealing opportunity so easily within a week.

"Well," Dod lamented as he fluffed his pillow that night, "At least I won't have to worry about doing this for a living."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**Heck yes, just the chapter itself was more than twice as long as the first one, which didn't hit the 1000 word mark even with the author's notes and title stuff! Hopefully this'll get the story that many more views. I guess the next target is 10,000...which won't be for a while, considering how long it took just to get here.**

**Three favourites, reviews and four followers already! Man, you are very thankful people.**

**Those of you familiar with Sinnoh should be able to figure out where Dod lives by now. Don't uh, abuse that information or anything.**

**Contrary to what I said last time, my plans for this have already jumped around quite a lot...at my current rate, I should have plenty of time to work things out though.**


	3. Chapter 3: Tardy Departure

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokémon. Whoop dee doo.**

**Wander**

**Chapter 3: Tardy Departure**

For the next five days, Dod started reading a lot of books as well as edging in a few battle simulation sessions which, though various guides admitted were quite helpful in getting a feel for type matchups and battle mechanics, apparently caused some trainers to be more narrow-minded without considering extra factors. So as not to raise suspicion from Kurt and the rest of the household (except Carrac, who was already aware but kept quiet as he happened to be feeling a little devious) he left to play the usual games of tennis and hang out with his companions, as well as cruise the areas in the parks reserved for pokémon battles to see what he was getting into. What he saw there impressed him, especially the works of a boy around his own age who seemed bored with the lack of worthy competition around him and disappeared after the first day, but that was all it took to convince the boy that taking the delivery job and journeying wasn't going to be boring, at least.

It seemed he'd have to take the job in the end. Nothing else he found sounded remotely preferable, so he broke the news to his gang of friends quite soon. They took it surprisingly well, lending words of encouragement, some of them even challenging him to battles for when he passed by (since Eterna City's Gym was typically the second in the circuit, he'd eventually be forced to, unless he decided to just wander). As it turned out, some of his chums had some pokémon of their own, and one guy who was well acquainted with a breeder offered to donate an egg. Dod didn't appreciate how he'd phrased it, but let it slide and told him he'd think about it.

Only on the very last night allowed for him did he dramatically announce, at the dinner table, glass in hand, that he had, in fact, found a job after all. The alarmed expression on Kurt's face almost made up for the fact that Dod would actually have to _leave_ to do the work anyway, which he promptly declared.

Needless to say, the caretaker was not pleased. Remarkably, he only trembled in rage for a few moments (having realised this had been set up days in advance) before he took a long, deep breath, and sighed. Then he shrugged.

"That's what we wanted from the start."

_"What?"_ All the boy could do was gape as Kurt elaborated, though it made sense, especially considering the following statement.

"Nobody expected you to actually find anything to do, really. I mean, your father and I have been trying for at least a year to gently prod you towards the right direction, but you have never gotten serious enough, so we decided to pull out all the stops and kick you right out of the city."

Dod just stood at his spot and stared dumbly, attempting to process the fact that he'd just been duped by _Kurt,_ of all people. For once, it was the older man who had to suppress a grin, although Dod himself wouldn't have extended the same courtesy. Still, the teen could hardly accept defeat that easily. "What made you think I WOULDN'T get a job?"

"You've had plenty of time from before, and even we couldn't find anything that you would agree to immediately. Now, back to business," the burly man proclaimed, and so they were. As it turned out, the teen wasn't _actually_ expected to leave that day, though if he knew what was coming, perhaps he would have considered that option.

Instead that event was pushed back another week on the calender, during which he had to survive a brutal training regimen enforced by Kurt and his experienced cousin Gerald, a veteran trainer and member of some army with a long name and no official acronym. Between the two of them, he was sure his life expectancy would plummet. Especially given how unorthodox their coaching methods were...

* * *

Practice took place on a fairly large grassy plain existing behind the buildings in their neighbourhood. It was a beautiful area full of various plants, reminiscent of the town on the other side of the forest, but nice enough to stand out on its own. Thankfully, people chose to visit other, even better places to enjoy the scenery, so there was little clutter or interference and with the trees and other greenery they could simulate a real camping situation. Research on pokémon battling and trainer had been done for the most part already, even if some basic concepts seemed foggy, so Dod endured very few lectures.

Unfortunately, this led them outdoors. Partly for survival skills, but also for torturous physical training in order to strengthen his body. Running laps, doing various stretches push-ups, sit-ups, even obscure acrobatics...just when he thought he'd done it all, the poor child was ushered onto various obstacle courses where many of the household's pokémon gathered to supply some of the actual obstacles and he had to apply his new skills. It turned out that Kurt's brother was planning to teach him how to withstand pokémon attacks himself.

Selena, the cheerful gardevoir, flung discs and various other rounded objects at the boy. Her appearance was that of a white wearing a lengthy, gleaming dress, with a prominent red chest, a green coloured hairstyle and similar arms.

Ronald the huge, dark, bulky aggron with chunks of metals of minerals surrounding parts of his body, assisted with setting up the actual debris and terrain for the course as if he was working with household furniture.

A zippy, light-footed blaziken named Tarika simply repeated the course as many times as she could, and a comparison of her total number of laps run within Dod's time was used to measure the boy's own progress. Watching the flaming streaks blur past him was not fun, but it certainly motivated him to attempt escaping embarrassment, though the punishment just for being late made him avoid any drastic measures.

The generally apathetic and unconcerned Leafeon set herself down about the edge of the designated area, using the unique abilities of her species to replace any lost flora from the training, rather than maintaining their garden.

"Why do you keep making me dodge things?" Dod screamed as he ducked under a speeding frisbee. "If I get attacked by criminals or wild pokémon, I'll have tame pokémon with me! Unless I'm stupid to tick off an Ursaring it'll be fine!"

"Of course your team will face many pokemon!" Gerald spat each word out far too enthusiastically, "That is the easy part! But boy, what will you do if they decide to attack YOU? Times have changed with the birth of Teams like Rocket, Aqua, Magma, Galactic...you need to be prepared for anything. Losing a battle against a wild pokémon would be disastrous without backup procedure."

After that the teen felt the supreme urge to shut up, courtesy of Gerald's horrific, stern gaze: a completely unnatural sensation. He felt a prickling sensation in his head and a little nauseous, before Dod realized he'd shifted 20 metres away from where he was before. Recognizing obvious psychic activity, he whirled round to Carrac, who shrugged, having only just left the kitchen to watch Dod flail around the large yard for a bit.

"That...must be our new addition to the household," Kurt reasoned hesitantly, albeit snickering. "Take a look over there."

Still disorientated, the poor boy stumbled to fix his gaze on a small green and white object in the distance that seemed to vibrate, stopping to focus on the rest of the field behind his home. The lush, healthy green grass made it perfect for agility and evasiveness training (there would be lots of rolling and falling involved), according to Gerald. Then, without warning, in the time it took for Dod to blink, the gap lessened considerably.

One undignified shout later, he felt indignant, but tried thinking of nice things to comfort himself. The first thing that came to mind was toothpaste, which didn't have the desired effect. Instead it reminded him of that accursed green and white shape that had filled his vision, and must have triggered that strange thought with its colour scheme. The few details he'd missed included the red horns on the front and back of the round green cap above a solid yet spectral white sheet, as well as the bright, gleaming eyes that he could only now see from his angle, as they lay behind that obscuring helmet that bobbed along with the rest of the creature as it giggled.

"This is..." Dod started, "Uh, some psychic pokemon I read about called..."

"Ralts," finished Kurt with his previous grin still plastered onto his face, "Again, a recent addition to the home we have here."

"Ralts," the boy repeated, ignoring the irritating laughter from the creature in question, "It was listed as an example of a typically young species in the psychic type description, known to detect and read emotions continuously. Speaking of which."

The moment Dod ditched his surprise and confusion to fuel his anger instead, his new enemy disappeared.

"They usually only appear in front of people who are feeling positive emotions like happiness," the caretaker noted, "Though he seems like the mischievous type."

"Great. Just _great_."

"That was quite clever, glaring at him to scare him off. Hopefully Carrac can keep him in check, he seems scarily proficient with teleportation already..."

A pause.

"Kurt?"

The man in question replied instantly, "Yes?"

"Where'd your bro go?"

* * *

A few hours after Gerald was returned to his rightful spot along with a couple of other pokémon, and a while after daylight disappeared, Dod was finally released from his torturous training sessions. The ralts was supervised by Carrac for a while as he was the only one able to keep up with the energetic trickster.

At the dinner table Dod devoured all of his food more speedily and heartily than ever under Gerald's watchful gaze, which he still couldn't bring himself to meet. How any of his subordinates could manage to hold their stances as perfectly as their commanding officer longingly described them, he'd never know. Even the house pokémon seemed at least mildly wary. Carrac had stolen one peek into Gerald's mind before he promptly fled the scene, cowering in the kitchen as he often did on the rare occasions that something he encountered genuinely freaked him out.

Taking advantage of the early end to his meal, Dod decided to question Kurt. "So when did that ralts get here?" he started, "Where's he from?"

The caretaker barely stopped himself from spraying cuisine all over the table. In order to buy some time he hesitantly replied, "Around a week, I'd say. It astounded me when you didn't even realize he was around, even long after the egg hatched. For once you were actually working quite hard, instead of just lying around the house. You were completely focused and absorbed."

The boy looked away and rubbed the back of his head, responding slowly, "Well, I've had far too much help from you two..."

Silence on both ends.

"Now stop avoiding the question." Seeing Kurt so agitated was still FAR too satisfying...

"...He came from here."

"Oh, now I get why you're flustered. One of the parents must have been Selena since they look so alike, but...what about the other one?"

Apparently this was the _real_ reason for his unease, because the butler clammed up. No answer was provided until Gerald finally lost his patience.

"It's that dusknoir you have flying about!" he spat out, "MORTIMER!"

For the third time that day, the house was dead quiet, uncomfortably so, its inhabitants unsure of what to do, with the exception of Gerald, who continued to eat unperturbed. He simply lay out the facts, and had long since overcome awkwardness after a series of practical jokes from his academy days. Dod, faced with this news for the first time, had trouble picturing _Mortimer_ of all pokémon being in a relationship- he was horrifically timid, though less so than when he wasn't yet fully evolved.

Mortimer, who of course just _happened_ to be in the corridor, froze at the mention of his name. Suddenly he felt very thankful for the absence of Selena and his child, and was able to flee the scene unnoticed.

Nothing had changed by the time Gerald finished his plate. Dod hadn't even had the resolve to leave the table until another comment was made, while Kurt was barely touching his now cool bowl of porridge. Thankfully, serious, reliable, merciful Gerald seemed willing to comply.

"I'm surprised you could even tell he was male," he remarked casually, "The Ralts family members tend to be rather feminine."

"Oh shucks, I live in a house with more than a trainer team's worth, bye, thank you."

And with that he made a mad dash for his bedroom, trying desperately not to ponder this newfound romance.

* * *

Try as he might, he could NOT stop himself from thinking about it, and he'd almost felt like planning to fling himself into those horrid training sessions just to occupy his mind a bit more. As soon as some of the more graphic visions subsided, though, he was noticeably calmer regarding the topic, and began to make observations linking the young ralts to his parents. Still, he couldn't quite conjure up enough confidence to congratulate them or anything.

Dod started feeling suspicious when Kurt started gently edging him towards the ralts and vice versa on a regular basis. Of course, he had no real evidence or sign of anything sinister, so the boy simply remained silent, until one day the ralts was actually allowed to wander about the training grounds and cause more mayhem, which set him off. After a short, paranoiac outburst, the bodyguard blinked, before calmly informing Dod that the ralts was going to be his first pokémon.

"Wait," Dod asked, bewildered, "I thought I was going to Professor Rowan's lab to get my first pokémon."

"I said you'd get _A_ pokémon," Kurt retorted, "Not necessarily your first. You're going to need a while to get used to him and convince him to leave with you in the first place. I'm sure he'll appreciate the space and freedom."

After a brief moment to mull this revelation over, the teen slowly said, "You...could've mentioned this before..."

"Didn't Carrac notify you?"

"No!"

"Oh, well..." he replied indifferently, "Nothing we can do about it now."

Of course, since fate loved to torture him, this happened to Dod right at the end of the current week limit, and thus his painful fitness and conditioning would continue for about the longest amount of time possible. Upon this realization, the poor boy let loose a cry of anguish before glowering at his butler and then stomping off in a fit.

For the next few days, Dod started trying to 'train' with the ralts. It was for like playing than training- he'd turn everything into a game for the young creature so that he wouldn't lose interest. Soon the ralts started chasing after the boy on his own, and Dod would have to openly express his frustration to scare him away when it went too far. He had to admit it was enjoyable, though. Sometimes he'd get the ralts to use teleport on him and he'd have to find his way back, or they'd play a more exciting game of hide-and-seek than one would expect from the pair. Other times they'd make use of psychic powers to prank the rest of the household or set loose frisbees. Fortunately the other household pokémon had no problems with helping handle the younger one, otherwise Dod would've gone insane.

Surprisingly, the topic of naming didn't appear for quite a while, and once it did all of the previous activity halted and Dod finally had some time alone to hang out with his friends, since Gerald had left after giving some advice on training the ralts. It turned out that he was learning how to read, due to his will to pick his own name. Everyone was so tired of calling him 'the ralts' that they agreed.

Since Carrac had been forced to learn to read and record recipes and ingredients, among other things like equipment, with his expertise, it was a huge success in comparison to various other small projects with the child that never quite got off the ground. Thus the ralts accompanied Dod to the library (with a bag of treats to keep him quiet) on his favourite spot on his shoulder where he wouldn't make the teen uncomfortable enough to force the young pokémon off.

It appeared that the youngster wasn't quite expecting this many books and seemed overwhelmed yet overjoyed by the choices and general freedom of movement, so Dod simply picked a direction at random and headed off.

The short walk found them at the section for 'hot' and popular works. There were books on naming new pokémon that the teen was itching to resort to, but his passenger felt more content with staring at the spines or covers instead. The moment any book was opened by his carrier, he'd use his rapidly developing psychic powers to return it to its rough location, although messily. One novel was actually torn, and Dod replaced it inconspicuously and hurriedly edged away down the row.

In an act of defiance, the irritated teenage boy repeatedly withdrew the same book from a shelf while his passenger, over and over again until the ralts just squealed, stopped moving things and pouted. Dod was about to make a witty retort after lifting him up when he felt someone staring from beside him. Turning towards that direction he spotted a girl his age gazing at the struggling mass in his arms with huge green eyes, which he recognised immediately as the kind some of his girlier female friends would sometimes have when gushing over something cute.

Trepidation building up, he considered fleeing the scene, but feared provoking or offending the bystander, so he shifted the small pokémon into a more relaxing position and decided to wait it out. The youngster he was holding seemed appeased by this as he ceased his escape attempts and curiously scanned the lines of books before the pair. Surprisingly, the girl next to them seemed quite sociable and tried striking up a conversation.

"That's an _adorable_ ralts!" she exclaimed brightly, "Looks young. Where'd you get him or her from?"

Dod slowly and as plainly as possible replied, "Other pokémon. And he's male."

"Oh!" she gasped, hesitant, "Were his parents at a daycare place or some place for pokémon to relax?"

"Nah," Dod responded, "We have a big house with a huge park behind us that tourists don't bother to visit."

"So you live here?" she questioned, "Whenever I see anyone older than ten with a pokémon, I just assume they're travelling trainers."

"Not for long." said the boy, "I'm leaving in a while to get my second one at Sandgem Town."

"Sandgem? Never heard of it. I only know a few places since I moved from Kanto recently."

"Well, it's a smaller place than this city, but it has Professor Rowan's lab there, and he gives out pokémon to people, apparently. I thought it was only starters, to let people that had none safely wander about, but Kurt seems to think otherwise."

"Who's that? Someone famous here?"

"Uh, the professor is, but Kurt...no. He's my uh...caretaker. Or butler? I never really sorted that out."

"Oh," she yelped, startled, "Sorry, I didn't know your parents were..."

"Whoa, relax," he assured her, "My Dad's still alive and well, he's just out working in Unova and lives with my little bro. He pays someone to stop me from burning the house down, and since he's rich he can easily afford it. I have video games and friends. Nothing's wrong."

His conversation partner could tell that there was something hidden in there, but pried no further. She just nervously looked away at whatever she was holding (a naming book, funnily enough) before murmuring.

"Sorry?" Dod asked. If her mouth hadn't been in his line of sight he would've scarcely been aware that she'd spoken.

She repeated her sentence, a little aggravated, "Lucia Carmen."

"Who's that?" the boy grinned slightly, speaking quietly, "Someone famous?"

"FRIENDS call me Lucy," she continued, peeved but reassured, "You can say whatever."

"Well then," he replied, "Call me Dod."

"Dod? Sure...what about him? The little guy you had with you?"

"Where did he even- oh." That short speech had unsettled the 'Feeling Pokémon' and caused him to teleport away, but he returned to his perch after they exchanged names. "We're still working on that," Dod explained. Before he could be bothered to elaborate, he followed Lucia's gaze to a book that the ralts was pointing to. "Maybe we can finally get this over with..."

It was a classic mystery novel series that was refurbished and repackaged with a more flashy and visually appealing exterior to attract more customers despite the hit series' already global influence. Dod noted, "The only thing I can actually read from here is the name of the original author, something Conan whatever, I can't pronounce the rest."

A giggle was heard from atop his head (causing another giggle from beside him), signalling a good find. Finally, Dod retrieved the first book that wasn't immediately rejected and returned. "Okay," the boy started, "So your name will be Arthuriou-"

Thus began the wailing.

One pokémon snack later, the teen tried again, this time more cautiously. "How about Conan...?" he asked trepidatiously.

The newly named ralts was appeased. Whether or not he truly understood what a name was would be apparent later on, but if not Conan would catch on with time. For now, the teen was glad to have something to call the little guy.

Dod's new neighbour was starting to make him feel uncomfortable with her gleeful grin. He could practically hear that girly squeal inside her head, and up until a while ago she was just watching the ralts held up in his arms leafing through book spines for a good name while the boy below made inadequate suggestions. Now that his business was over, he considered leaving the two together and waltzing around the library of his own accord, but didn't feel like risking an incident and left there and then before Conan got too attached to anything, saying a quick farewell to Lucia.

* * *

A few days later, Dod finally left his house feeling incredibly stupid.

With his hellish training behind him (though he had to admit it did wonders for his fitness), he had actually been looking forward to his departure. After all, a pokémon journey was what so many little boys and girls dreamed about. Battling was something exciting to expect, and Dod knew the experience would be more than video games could ever hope to emulate, having lived with pokémon for pretty much his whole life. He'd been prepared to walk out the door without batting an eye, but apparently Kurt and Gerald wanted to leave him just ONE last parting gift.

Hence the uniform.

A fresh, brand new, pristine army style uniform which came together with combat boots and a helmet was shoved into his arms, accompanied with clear instructions that Dod wouldn't have followed if it weren't for that GLARE Gerald sent his way. The boy's short, black hair and lightly tanned skin seemed a perfect match for the outfit. He sighed, imagining a number of melodramatic reactions: those thanking him for his service to their nation, some bursting into laughter, others fleeing at first sight...

Seething, the boy swallowed whatever heartfelt words he would've had to the man he'd lived with for years and slipped into the shadows to avoid being seen, before he noticed other people wearing interesting clothing. Just passing his hovel were a trail of kids dressed as skeletons. Down the street, wizard, witch and zombie clothing and props for various disguises with different themes surrounded the front porches of various houses. A bedsheet shuppet shuffled up his driveway, before halting and waiting impatiently for Dod to disappear from the doorway.

Seconds later, Kurt joined him with a smirk on his face.

"You planned this, didn't you?"

"Have some holiday spirit," the butler replied, "And to be fair, it's a good costume."

"It does look pretty cool," Dod admitted after a sigh, "I'll call you when it's time to leave to Sandgem."

With that, he trotted off in the direction of the bike shop, Conan lounging on his shoulder. Being a pokémon, and a psychic-type at that, the little one had grown astonishingly fast, having realized a while ago what leaving home on a journey entailed. It had been difficult to leave his parents, but above all else he valued freedom, and decided to pursue it in the safest way he could, as a trainer's pokémon.

Rad Rickshaw flung open the front door in a panic.

"Where have you _been_?" he shouted emphasizing certain words to get his point across, "The order's due in _minutes_! Just _how_ are you going to get the package there? And...you're _dressing up_ for Halloween on the first day of the job? It's very fitting, actually. Why don't I just make _everyone_ wear military uniforms?"

His new employee, now stoic, spoke one word.

"Teleport."

In an instant he'd contacted Kurt, who arrived right outside with Carrac. Dod snatched the parcel from his boss' store and sprinted toward the pair, and the moment they all made contact, the whole group vanished, save for a dumbfounded bicycle shop owner.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**Eh, I don't feel all that happy with this chapter, but a lot of it has been sitting around for ages, almost untouched. Plus it ended up being far too long for Storybook to handle much more, so the second part of the already late intended Halloween update will have to wait even longer.**

**The whole 'not capitalizing species names' thing has been around for a while, and since it makes sense, I'm adopting the rule now. Capital letters for species names will only be there when referring to pokemon without nicknames of any sort. Conan stayed as 'the ralts' because they didn't call him Ralts.**

**I didn't have much of a costume to speak of on October 31st, so I just wore black jeans, a long Quiksilver winter jacket and passed myself off as a partially burnt off rock. Not sure if it worked, but I got some good laughs out of it.**

**Not sure if I feel ready for any shout-outs since I'm years away from having much of a name myself, but I think I'll give it a go. Once every chapter sounds good, and considering my track record with updates I doubt I'll run out of choices.**

**First off, _The Sardonic Adventure of Briar Casey_ is amazing. Absolutely brilliant. Written by sushi4427, uploaded by .Dolum due to site issues. If you want to follow the sequel in its first stages on sushi's account, named _The Callous Adventure of Travis Thorn_, read the two stories in order. You will not regret it.**

**On another note, the length of each chapter seems to be growing exponentially...**


	4. Chapter 4: Team Tag-alongs

**Disclaimer: Someday. Today is not that day.**

**Wander**

**Chapter 4: Team Tag-alongs**

A thunderous explosion rocked Route 202.

It happened a few moments after they arrived, The moment their feet touched solid ground the group heard ominous electronic beeping noises emanating from somewhere. Even Carrac was so bewildered that he took some time to trace the sound back to its source...

The package.

Realizing that it was obviously a bomb's countdown, he hastily conjured up various barriers while Conan vanished (feeling a sudden influx of PANIC among other emotions), pulling Dod along for the ride. Kurt distanced himself quietly, unwilling to disturb the psychic-type's concentration when their lives probably depended on it.

After about five seconds the intervals between each beep began to shorten, which did little to comfort anybody. Carrac almost completely exhausted his energy by preparing defenses, before completely restoring it using Recover. Moustache twitching nervously, though much less than before, he then focused on strengthening every fortification present.

By this time the machinery was whirring frantically, audible clicking sounds now emerging. The beeps jumbled and weaved into a continuous tone. Then the commotion, buzzing, ringing and all halted abruptly.

Finally, the package combusted, but the damage from the explosion was significantly diminished by the alakazam's efforts. An almost pleasant wave of heat erupted along with a blinding flash of light with the various noises from before seemed to have been compiled, resulting in a blast that could be heard by trainers on the path a mile away.

All of this action occurred in less than half a minute, followed by the return of Conan and the two humans.

"What...the HELL was that!?" Dod inquired, stupefied.

"I-If I understand correctly," his butler started, slightly shaken himself, "That should've been a trap attached to the package that's activated by teleportation, set in order to prevent thievery by psychic-types and trainers they belong to."

"Oh god, just what's in here? That's some serious security to go tagging along boxes sent by a 16-year old dude!"

"He's a professor, after all," argued Kurt. "It could be vital technology or data of some sort..."

Dod suddenly froze, something clicking inside his head. "What about the package? Is it damaged in any way?"

"No, Carrac prevented that," the caretaker answered, gesturing to the pokémon in question, "Though blocking an explosion with all of that power seems to have taken its toll. We'll leave after a while."

They allowed the alakazam to recuperate before they took off south for Sandgem Town, walking quickly so as not to arrive late, though the bomb had delayed them too long already. Kurt held the parcel until the guard gate leading in was visible, at which point he and Carrac returned to Eterna City, promising to call later, and the task was delegated to the actual delivery boy.

Personnel posted at the entrance were quick to allow him through, visitors a common sight at the town where Professor Rowan's lab was located. While they'd adhered to their strict dress code, the folks of Sandgem certainly seemed quite festive: decorations started appearing a mere block away from the exit door.

As Dod navigated towards a less crowded area, near the suburbs where it actually became possible to keep an individual in sight for more than three seconds, he began garnering attention from his sweaty, somehow slightly burnt appearance. Again, like in his hometown, he could imagine mixed reactions. Frankly, he was hoping for just plenty of space from people who understood that he was probably not willing to deal with him right now.

Regardless, the boy worried that professional researchers would be much more likely to feel weirded out or look down on him than active celebrators of Halloween that were in the open. Within the confines of the lab he had to visit, there would be no escape or blending into the mesh of costumes. He'd have to face arguably the greatest pokémon professor in all of Sinnoh while dressed up in ridiculous, makeshift military garb.

It was a little hard to swallow. The only real authority he was used to dealing with was Kurt, and, well...

Their relationship wasn't all that professional. All those years of playing around gave him a sense of comfort around the man who was probably like a father figure to him. One that got annoyed way too easily.

Conan simply squirmed in his seat, feeling jumpy and upbeat upon sensing the joy of kids collecting tons of candy, continuing to fidget until they'd almost arrived at their destination. Here he stopped moving abruptly and teleported them directly to the door of Professor Rowan's laboratory, startling a familiar face atop unfamiliar attire, and Dod's apprehension vanished.

This young female clearly dressed for the occasion, her attire resembling that of a mixture of a surskit and a swablu: the four-legged water-spouting spider and blue bird with fluffy white wings respectively. She wore a yellow beanie on top of her head and a long, billowing dress of the same colour as the legs of a surskit, represented by four lengthy extrusions protruding from her shoulders, both forwards and backwards. These strands hung just above her bright boots, which seemed to detract from the 'graceful gliding spider' image she was going for. Upon recognizing this person, Dod was surprised, though not to the girl's extent at the moment.

After a startled reaction to their sudden appearance, Lucia calmed down enough to greet the duo properly (with words), the boy still shocked at seeing her here of all places. More notably, he was glad not to be the only one arriving at the lab in costume.

"How the heck did you get here so fast?" asked Dod slowly. "I met you in the library just a few days ago."

"A trainer with an Abra felt like being nice. And you?"

"Same here I guess," responded Dod, not bothered to go into detail. "Conan can't pull off anything that big yet. Anyway, why are you here?"

"Why are you burnt?" she retorted immediately. "You look like you've been to war."

There was only silence. Dod was soon given up on, and the two finally decided to just walk into the building. Before he could stop in front of the receptionist, Lucia seamlessly shoved him ahead, explaining that she was only outside to bring him into the right room once he arrived. Apparently he really _was_ late.

Since starter pokémon were generally given out in groups of three, a supremely excited boy happened to be waiting in the lab for the same reasons as they were, albeit with far more enthusiasm. Dod was pretty sure the guy was on a sugar high. It was Halloween, after all.

Without wasting any time, Dod waltzed over to Professor Rowan to get things moving before he could be chastised. Unfortunately, he couldn't quite catch himself when he actually caught sight of the professor.

It seemed even the scientific institutions of Sandgem weren't impartial to festivities, for Rowan was sporting a fine, fake whiscash moustache. With navy blue attire to match, the man was a far cry from the professional Dod had seen on TV. The boy wasn't sure whether to respect the man more or less for still trying to appear serious when the fake eyebrows were stretched with every flex of a facial muscle. He settled for struggling not to laugh in the professor's face.

"What's that you have in your arms?" inquired the professor curiously, somehow managing to sound intimidating despite his conversational tone.

Dod answered politely, "A package delivered by one of Rad Rickshaw's employees, yours truly." Having responded to both queries and handing the box to Lucia (who stumbled and fumbled with the unexpected extra weight), Dod casually plopped himself down on a couch to survey his surroundings. While scientists had been continually scurrying past him in the hallways to do god knows what, this cool, spacious area was completely deserted. The boy figured this room was designated solely for starter pokémon distribution, explaining the lack of activity.

Only a few other people were present, consisting of Lucia, a couple of researchers still fooling around at the back, and yet another vaguely familiar face, decked out in black jeans and a snazzy red jacket complete with white and black trimmings. Upon further inspection, Dod realised this was yet another person he could've sworn he'd seen before, although he couldn't quite recall where from.

"You work for Rad?" piped up the red jacket.

"Uh, yeah," Dod said offhandedly, hoping it would shut him up. It didn't. If anything, it sparked a revelation that lit up the other boy's face in recognition for only a moment before he scowled again.

"Where have you been?" he demanded, "A delivery boy can't be late, man!"

_HELL_, Dod considered replying with, but instead decided to mumble a hasty apology before striking up a conversation so they could all move on.

"I think I've seen you before," said Dod, "Eterna City? You were battling in some park with a long name."

"Oh," the guy with messy hair sounded, every ounce and of anger suddenly gone, "You mean-"

"Ahem." Whoever tried to interrupt apparently didn't speak loud enough to be acknowledged, and the conversation persisted.

"That's the one. I'm surprised you remember the name. Sometimes you just gotta wonder who came up with these things..."

"Maybe someone just smashed a keyboard a few times?"

"Or a typewriter. The people in that area are-"

"Excuse me," said a low, loud, intimidating voice that made the boys freeze and turn to face the professor in the room sheepishly. Well, Dod _tried_ to look ashamed, at least, but was too busy holding back his laughter as he set his eyes on Professor Rowan's attire once more. There was the stern face of the man who had appeared on television numerous times, travelled across several regions and contributed to various breakthroughs which allowed people to understand the creatures that surround them that much more. At the moment he was said to be researching the reason behind evolution; why some species did and others didn't, how specimens that evolved earlier and later in their lives differed, and various other questions that most wouldn't dream of entertaining.

Now these facts were brought to the forefront of their minds as the man stared them down crossly.

"Good evening, Professor," tried Dod. "A pleasure to meet you."

"Yes, and you must be Dod," Professor Rowan reasoned, "I see you're already acquainted with Lucia and Spenser here."

"Apparently," Dod shrugged. "Only by passing, really...one short conversation and one sighting."

"Well," he coughed, "I'm sure you three will grow closer as time goes on."

"Yes, so am I."

'Spenser' decided to break the awkward silence that loomed over them afterwards. "What was in the package, anyways?"

"A treat for the three of you," replied Professor Rowan, before asking Lucia to place the box that she was still holding onto the table next to him. Once she did that, he stuck his hand in and withdrew three rectangular devices to show the teenagers in front of him. Each was a sleek red and black design with white trimmings around the sides and vaguely recognized as a Unovan Pokédex.

"These are three National Pokédexes," continued the Professor. "With the capacity to receive, contain and display data for every single species in the world, down to the last variation within those as well. Information on evolution isn't yet available, but if you connect to the Internet regularly, these devices should update themselves automatically. If you're more curious about anything, there is an instruction manual provided inside the cover. Here you are."

With that, he handed the three youths their devices, the first two jumping for joy while the last boy maintained his composure, sulking for whatever reason. Perhaps it had something to do with the slight burns upon his clothing?

Shrugging it off, Professor Rowan winced when, almost in synchrony, the three devices wailed as a request for owner identification since it was the first time they'd been opened.

"I assume you have your trainer IDs?" All three teens except for Dod nodded and handed them over, causing the professor to glance his way. "Well?"

"What, you want an ID?"

"Yes," the man replied patiently. "Your trainer ID."

Dod gave them all a blank stare when the others in the room turned to him expectantly. "I never got one of those."

"How did you get your ralts, then?" asked Lucia, before pausing. "You don't have any pokéballs yet?"

"Bred. And how am I supposed to get any pokéballs without a trainer ID?"

Rowan sighed, shook his head, and waved Dod over to another area in the lab, where a quick photo was taken along with a few forms that had to be filled out.

A few minutes later found them standing around once more with their pokédexes, but as soon as they were done with the configuration Rowan drew their attention again.

"You came here for the Sinnoh starter pokémon, correct?" When three heads nodded, the Professor unconsciously glanced at Dod again before beckoning them to the other side of the room. Over there lay pokéballs set in three groups, each atop its own pedestal bearing the name of their contents' species along with a photograph.

To the left, Turtwig, the small, green, shelled creature with leaves growing out of its head. Next was Chimchar, a species of bright orange primates with flames almost taking place of tails. Finally, there lay the blue penguins' pokéballs on the right. Funnily enough, there wasn't to be any water spewing out from unlikely body parts. It seemed there was a limit to how ridiculous pokémon anatomy could get.

In any case, Dod immediately decided to go for the creature with the shell. If he was going to be kicked out of the house with a bunch of pokémon, then they were going to be ones he could keep up with. Conan being the sad exception, of course. At least the ralts could teleport other things _with_ him when he took off.

Spenser actually beat him to the punch, claiming a chimchar because of how 'boss' infernapes were, which left a piplup for Lucia to complete the trio. The girl said she was going to pick one anyway, but the subtle sense of unease Dod got when she looked his way told him otherwise. Or maybe she was just fed up with having to choose last, because just as quickly her eyes reclaimed that gleam they had.

When all was said and done the great Professor had had more than enough of the three children eating up his schedule, and promptly dismissed them. Before that though, he gave the boy with the cap a parcel about the size of two briefcases stacked on top of each other. The instructions were to kindly deliver it to the first gym leader in the circuit, Roark, since the trainer was obviously going to be there within two weeks to challenge him, after all. It's not like he did it just to provide the least enthusiastic pokédex holder some extra motivation to get going or anything, right?

_Damn it._

The least he could do was pay the fees for the delivery. Dod couldn't ask for any without seeming greedy because the good professor made it seem like just a favour, and he had no good reason to refuse if he wanted to save face. If Spenser were here, he might've tried it, but that guy was already out the door by the time this took place, not willing to talk about work that wasn't his.

Professor Rowan, it seemed, was crafty.

On the way out, Dod was surprised to see the other two trainers waiting for him. Spenser's head snapped up the moment his foot landed on pavement, greeting the late boy with a smile.

"Hey, man. What took you?"

Dod shifted the backpack hanging from his shoulders uneasily. "I got another delivery request."

"Huh." The boy's tone grew curious. "Already?"

"A package for 'Roark the Rock' or whatever people call him."

"I didn't know you guys worked," piped up Lucia.

"We do," replied Dod promptly.

Spenser agreed eagerly, "For Rad!" For some reason his coworker shivered, but when attention was turned to him it stilled.

"Anyway," said the boy with the cap, "Is there a reason you guys were waiting out here?"

Lucia answered him happily. "I thought we could do what the professor said. Y'know, get to know each other. We could walk the first route together."

"That," Spenser interjected, "And I want to battle, of course. You guys have two pokémon each, right?" He glanced at each teen in turn expectantly.

"Yep!"

"Now, yeah."

"Let's go to Route 202!"

Dod jogged along for a few moments, purposefully lagging behind, and then stopped. Nobody noticed. He casually reached for a pokéball on his belt loop and dropped it onto the floor. It peeved him when the ball missed his hand on the rebound and he had to go and pick it up off the ground, but at least Conan was out again, instantly relocating himself to the human's shoulder.

"Take us to the gate we were at before," asked Dod.

Conan complied.

The boy had to suppress a grin when the others finally caught up to him. Their reactions definitely made the rest of the day worth it. At least Conan wouldn't get trigger-happy with the teleportation now that he'd had his fill. He hoped.

Regardless, Spenser was glad to see Dod 'in the spirit of things' and decided it would be best if all the pokémon were out. Before anyone could react, he'd already flung two pokéballs to the ground.

One shape was a chimchar, familiar from the illustration in the lab. The other was more interesting, to say the least. A pale yellow serpentine creature about the size of Conan emerged, perpetually closed eyes, tiny wings, a tail like a drill and blue markings abound. Dunsparce.

Lucia went next, allowing another serpent to coil lightly around her collar, this one purple with a yellow tail, underbelly and eyes, along with a single stripe near the front. The ekans was accompanied by Lucia's piplup, who she was currently cooing at in her arms.

Dod's second pokémon was already out, standing straight and at attention like a bold soldier. Fitting, considering his new owner's costume.

One by one, each of them were introduced.

Gamond the dunsparce, Springer the chimchar.

Viola the ekans and Gali the piplup.

Dod had taken one look at his turtwig and dubbed him Validus, meaning strength.

Conan was introduced after that brief explanation. Who needed naming guides and books when you had an English-to-Latin dictionary? Not Dod. Conan hadn't been his to name really. He'd practically done it himself.

That day, nine individuals made their way through Route 202.

And they were not alone.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**Finally! Yeesh, that was what, half a year since I last updated? By that measure I'll be retiring by the time I get halfway through this shindig. I'd say not to expect more because I have exams in a week that I should be preparing for, but apparently I have a death wish. Still, I work slooow. Don't expect much.**

**Yes, Dod's dudes will have Latin names. He seems like the type.**

**In any case, Rowan's package had some...interesting security, didn't it? That just came out of nowhere, really. Dod was understandably freaked out about it, considering...**

**Clearly these dexes are valuable little things, though professors seem to give them out like candy.**

**My recommendation for this chapter is _The Human Species_ by _Shaded Skies_. It's kind of like a sequel to two of the author's previous works, _Occult Magazine: Evolution's Gate_ and _Forever Legendary_, so I'd read those first. Seriously, I find it hard to criticize them. Characters are great, fights are awesome, and you'll be feeling so sorry for Lucario that the times when he finally fights back are just too amazing for words. Which is impressive, considering that's how they were conveyed.**

**No reason you shouldn't be looking that up now. I'm certain it'll be a good use of your time.**

**Anyway, the chapters of my story seem to have reached their limit in length. Let's see how long I can keep this up. A lot of my time working on this was spent trying to figure out the background, plot, and future for this. Definitely not certain of how it'll turn out, but that vague idea I had at the start doesn't sound too bad anymore. I'm sticking to it.**

**I have a plot, guys!**


End file.
